small smiles, sad hearts
and a million tiny lies
to hide reality.
honesty is a
prelude to a difference
Up and down; down and up!
Under and over; over and under!
It was something he loved to do, a secret pleasure. He enjoyed watching the brush move methodically up and down that burnished gold hair.
She is so beautiful!
Just how do I deserve her?
How does a man like me, get a woman like that?
Sandra felt her husband watching and turned to smile before returning to her task.
As usual, his wife was immaculately dressed in an expensive, tailored business suit and her perfume was subtly discreet but, at the same time, beguilingly enchanting.
There was no doubt she always had to have the best, whether it was clothes, perfume or jewellery. It wasn’t that Sandra Heath was a spoiled, rich brat. Quite the contrary, but she enjoyed the better things of life and despised shoddy workmanship almost as much as she disliked an absence of beauty or style.
Of course, Tim did not begrudge his wife spending money on clothes. Why would he? In a way, it was her money! Well, most of it, anyway and she had earned every penny!
Sandra was a very successful business consultant who counted some of the largest corporations as her clients. Totally focussed when it came to business and very professional in presentation, she was much sought after by corporations for those difficult projects, usually the ones with restructuring or moving people.
Tim watched a little from the sidelines and marvelled at how assured and poised his wife was as well as extremely ruthless when it was necessary.
Sandra worked for her own small company but kept the number of employees down to a minimum. There were many offers for Sandra to join some of the best known global consultancy firms but she always declined. Tim suspected it had something to do with loyalty – loyalty to her staff and her clients – he didn’t really know as Sandra just smiled and brushed it off.
At the end of the day, by running her own business, Sandra took home most of the money!
As such a high powered executive, Sandra earned almost four times what Tim did as an accountant at Myerson, a middle sized manufacturing and distribution business.
Still, after almost five years of marriage, the money did not matter or come between them. It certainly did not affect Tim’s ego as he admired and respected his beautiful wife. He also loved her very much and was quietly pleased when Sandra had chosen to change her surname to his when they were married.
He had expected her to retain her maiden name, to remain Sandra Polson for business purposes but she did not and became Mrs Sandra Heath!
It was significant because immediately after her first marriage dissolved, Sandra had returned to using Polson.
Her first marriage had been brief and a long time ago. Sandra had raised her daughter as a single mother and built her business. The fact she could chose her own hours, as a contracted consultant was a huge benefit for the young single mother.
Tim, and Sandra’s daughter, Carolyn, were courteous but would never be close. Carolyn was working in Australia and returned to the U.K. only a few times each year.
That, of course, allowed Tim and Sandra more time to themselves.
Tim was secretly glad that such a beautiful, charming and intelligent woman chose him!
Sandra was beautiful!
Tall, slim with curving hips and large breasts, Sandra turned heads every time she walked into a restaurant or any public place.
As well as the beauty, Sandra also possessed certain sureness. Not quite arrogance, (although some women said she was rather masculine in that regard), but her demeanour was more confidence in her own intelligence and ability. Therefore, there were occasions, when focused on the current project at hand, that Sandra appeared aloof, cold and a trifle arrogant.
Tim didn’t mind at all. It added colour to some of his secret, private fantasies.
He watched her finish the brushing, wondering again how it was he had been so lucky for a woman like Sandra to fall in love with him!
Sandra looked at her husband’s reflection in the mirror, stopped brushing her hair and smiled.
‘You look a million miles away, darling. What were you thinking about?’
‘I was thinking of how much I loved you.’
‘So sweet but you’re making that up!’
‘No,’ Tim protested, ‘I really was.’
‘Then, that’s doubly sweet!’
‘Do you?’ Tim asked slowly.
‘Do what, darling?’
‘Of course! Don’t be a silly billy, you know I loved you.’
Tim nodded. He did know and that was the reason he knew he was lucky!
‘I think it is time to open a bottle of wine, darling,’ she said.
‘Of course. Red or white?’
‘It’s a special occasion so I suggest one of the good reds we laid down three years ago.’
‘A special occasion?’ Tim asked cautiously. ‘Have I missed something?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I have just been thinking about things so we need to talk.’
Tim’s heart sank and he looked at her with pale concern.
Sandra chuckled softly.
‘Why do men go pale when their wives say they want to talk?’
‘I’m not sure. Maybe it’s a reflex action or something. Should I be concerned?’
‘Just get the wine, darling,’ Sandra laughed and the hairbrush began to move again.
Sandra sat opposite Tim, picked up the wineglass and inhaled the bouquet.
‘Very nice,’ she said approvingly. ‘How old is it?’
‘That’s appropriate, isn’t it?’ Sandra smiled.
‘If you say so, although I am at a loss…’
‘We’ve been married five years, darling.’
‘Today is not our wedding anniversary,’ Tim said quickly. ‘It isn’t.’
He watched his wife taste the wine and smack her plump lips appreciatively.
‘To us,’ Sandra said, rasing her glass.
‘To us,’ Tim echoed and they sipped the wine in silence.
‘Are you happy, darling?’ Sandra asked after a moment.
‘Of course. Very happy.’
‘But life isn’t perfect, is it?’
‘It is for me.’
‘Liar!’ Sandra said calmly.
‘Darling, it is perfect. You are perfect!’
‘You really are a liar, darling. There is that matter we last discussed nine months ago.’
‘What matter?’ Tim asked, playing for time, mind racing.
‘You know very well, darling,’ Sandra admonished calmly.
‘I’m afraid I can’t recall…’
‘Darling, we are always honest with each other, aren’t we?’
‘Then, let’s not play games. I think we’re beyond that, don’t you?’
Tim stared thoughtfully at his glass, outwardly calm but his heart was racing.
‘I remember it well,’ Sandra said. ‘You confessed to me when we were staying in that small hotel in Venice. The one by the Grand Canal? You told me some interesting things. It must have been the Italian wine as you were quite forthcoming. Usually you’re so careful with your private thoughts but not that night.’
Tim studied his glass as he recalled the moment very well. Truthfully, he didn’t know whether he was excited or afraid that Sandra also remembered that tempestuous night.
In a moment of deep honesty and, perhaps hope, he had revealed to his wife his desire to be dominated.
In fact, he had described in detail his desire not only to be dominated but to be controlled absolutely. He even told her of his need to be humiliated and sexually denied.
The revelations had poured from him, perhaps assisted by wine but he held nothing back.
Sandra had not been shocked, although obviously surprised, and had asked many questions, forcing Tim to open up even more. They had spent all of the night talking.
Tim had revealed himself with brutal honesty and laid everything before his wife who had calmly absorbed it all. It had been a cathartic experience for Tim and an educational one for Sandra.
The next morning, Sandra had thanked Tim for being so open and honest while he nursed a dull headache.
Damn Italian wine!
‘I need to think about all of this, darling,’ she had said.
‘Of course,’ Tim had mumbled, deeply ashamed in the cold light of day.
He had, he thought, successfully buried his submissive desires and managed to live a normal life but every now and again, those illicit needs would surface.
He was very honest with himself.
Why am I like this?
Why do I need to submit and want to submit so badly?
‘I’m in the middle of some deep business commitments,’ Sandra had said, ‘but when they have been completed, we will talk some more about this. Thank you, darling, for being so honest with me.’
Then, she had kissed her husband’s forehead and they had gone on with their busy lives as if nothing had happened.
But, of course, something had happened!.
Now, Sandra suddenly wanted to talk about it – again!
‘Do you remember, darling?’ Sandra pressed.
Tim cleared his throat.
‘Ah, yes, I do. You were right; it must have been the Italian wine…’
‘So,’ Sandra said calmly, ‘it was just the wine talking? You don’t want me to dominate you, to control you completely?’
 Prelude to a Difference – from a small volume of unpublished D/s poems by Carmenica Diaz